Expressoself!
by spaceyshipper
Summary: Coffeeshop AU. Sabriel. Sam Winchester is a single dad attending Stanford. His life crosses with that of Gabriel Milton, a local coffeeshop owner. The two become friends, bonding over shared intellectual interests, and Gabriel welcomes Sam and his daughter into his life. The two dance around each other and slowly fall into something more.
1. Fall and Falling

Fall was always a time of peculiar melancholia for Sam. He could never quite understand the mixture of impressions the season gave him that were more than physical sensations yet less than emotions. He felt something like mourning: the passing of summer, the slow acceptance of crisp weather and the musk of dying leaves. Yet the season also had a sense of promise: there were places that the cold weather only made more cozy and inviting, there was the seasonal food that brought comfort, and it was the time he first fell in love.

Sam reminisced on his time with Jessica as he walked out of class. They had been so young back then, so fresh and vibrant and drunk on dreams and futures and lust and love. They had held hands in parks and gone on breakfast dates and talked about philosophy and science and history. They met each other's families and spent holidays together and moved in together. They made love. They had a child together.

But they changed.

As Sam and Jessica grew older, Sam felt that they he had matured past their relationship. It didn't fit. He denied it for a long time, doubting himself, asking himself if he was simply being too picky, too idealistic. He knew Jessica thought he was being too idealistic. There was nothing _wrong,_ strictly speaking. Only they started to be a little too fake with one another and not quite thoughtful enough and not quite in love anymore. Sam loved Jessica - he still did. But he wasn't _in love_ with Jessica.

A year ago, he had thought that he had everything figured out - that his little family unit would someday buy a house on the outskirts of a nice city, and he would be a lawyer, and Jess could work part-time or not at all, if she wanted, and their daughter Mary would have two stable, normal, happy parents. Sam wanted that life so badly. But he knew that to have that, he would have to lie to himself, to sacrifice some part of who he was and what he needed in a relationship.

 _I'm not even sure_ what _I need,_ Sam thought, as he pulled his beanie tighter over his ears. He only had a semblance of a piece of an idea: that he wanted something - someone - with more depth, more passion. Something more real.

 _I mean, some people actually do have happy, meaningful relationships, right? But maybe that's not just meant for me. Maybe soulmates do exist, but not everyone gets to find theirs._ Sam hoped that maybe he could have a few relationships throughout the rest of his life, and prayed that they had both fallen sufficiently out of love for it not to hurt too badly when it ended.

Sam sighed. He was such a lonely sap. He didn't miss Jess; but he did miss waking up next to someone and someone asking about his day when he got home. He missed having someone to talk to besides Mary - who didn't say more than one word in a row yet.

Sam's lips curled upward at the thought of Mary. She had her mother's curls, but she had his chestnut hair and his dimples and his eyes. She was now a year and a half old, and her favorite things to do were read books, climb onto his desk, and eat paper. Sam was honestly surprised she hadn't gotten some sort of intestinal blockage yet. Mary took her time chewing and poking at her fruits and veggies, but paper? Sam swore she swallowed whole chunks without chewing. If he left an article on the coffee table, or let her look at her picture books unattended, she would be sure to be found nibbling on the cellulose as if it were a fine delicacy.

Sam's musing while he walked meant that he was already downtown. It was a bit out of his way to his apartment, but he was changing his routine. Sam used to study in the library on campus and buy his daily coffee there, but this semester he was on a particularly tight budget and the five dollars a pop for the coffee at the student-run on-campus café was eating away at his savings. Sam had mentioned as much to a classmate, who mentioned that there was a new coffee shop not far from main campus that was very reasonably priced and had excellent pastries as well.

Sam had reasoned that he could do with a bit of extra exercise anyway. His classes were particularly difficult this term and his workout routine had been lacking as of late. He could already tell he was losing muscle mass. Not like there was anyone around to appreciate his looks (or lack thereof) anyway.

 _Stupid caffeine addiction._ Sam grumbled to himself as he began searching the storefronts for _Expressoself! Coffee and Pastry Shoppe._ He almost walked past; the store was bookended by two others, and the glass storefront was barely wider than the door itself. However, the storefront was lined with stringlights that were simple yet enticing. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Sam opened the door.


	2. Coffee Fixes All Problems

Gabriel's feet hurt and his back ached and his neck was sore from counting change from the cash register, but he was happy. His little shop was getting more business now that Stanford was reaching midterm season and students needed an extra caffeine fix to continue their studying into egregious hours of the early morning. From what he heard from customers, _Expressoself_!'s reputation for selling reasonably-priced, fair-trade, organic coffee was travelling by word of mouth. Several students complained about the prices of the coffee shops on campus; Gabriel suspected that the inflated prices had something to do with the inflated wages of the student workers, but he wasn't one to stand in the way of a college student's pay. Well, maybe he was, since he was stealing their customers. He snickered to himself.

 _Ting!_

The bell above the door had been jingling steadily since 8 in the morning, but had slowed somewhat now that it was 3 in the afternoon. Gabriel was somewhat immune to the sound, having been hearing it nearly every day for the three months his shop had been in business, but it was still enough to jolt him out of his reverie.

"Welcome to _Expressoself_!" Gabriel called as the customer approached the counter.

The man was tall, but he hunched his shoulders and his neck a bit - whether a result of excessive time spent bent over books studying, or in an effort to seem less formidable, Gabriel wasn't sure. He straightened up a bit as he looked at the menu above the counter for a minute, quietly contemplating. Gabriel watched him unconsciously, still a bit lost in thought over moral practices of business competition. As his eyes wandered, he realized the man was wearing a flannel shirt that peaked out from under a flannel coat. Gabriel let out a huff of air in a laugh. The man, torn from his deep contemplation of the menu, looked at Gabriel, eyebrows raised questioningly.

"What can I get you?" Gabriel asked quickly, his stomach twisting in embarrassment as he realized he probably sounded like he was laughing at the poor man. _Smooth, Gabriel._

"Umm…" The man glanced one more time at the menu, then at Gabriel. "I'm looking for something sweet. What would you suggest?"

Gabriel resisted the urge to make a crude joke. The man's face spoke of maturity, with some frown lines and bags under his eyes, but somehow his eyes still maintained an innocent light. They were hazel, framed with long lashes. He had a strong jawbone, and fringes of long hair escaped from under the beanie the man wore.

Gabriel realized he had probably been staring for awhile, and attempted to play it off as if he had been thinking about the man's request.

"Hmm… Looking for something hot or cold?"

"Hot," the man replied quickly, and shivered for effect.

"Well, you could start with me," Gabriel smirked and winked, "But, since I'm on the clock, how about a caramel macchiato?"

The man looked vaguely confused. "That sounds good. I mean, the caramel macchiato. Not that you're not… Um. Normally I…. "

"Don't give yourself an aneurism, one caramel macchiato coming right up," Gabriel waved a hand at the man's fumbling, and shot him a smile _. Dammit Gabriel, you're an oversexed idiot. Guy's probably going to complain about getting sexually harassed at the local coffeeshop_. Gabriel paled.

"So, are you a student at Stanford?" Gabriel attempted to lighten the atmosphere.

"Yeah, I'm studying law," The man replied offhandedly.

 _Dammit Gabriel! He's not going to complain about sexual harassment, he'll just sue you himself._

"Wow. Bet you need your caffeine, huh?"

"More than you know," The flannel-clad man agreed tiredly.

"Don't worry, coffee fixes all problems!" Gabriel said over his shoulder as he prepared the beverage. Within a couple minutes he was setting it on the counter in front of the man.

"Thanks," the man smiled with genuine warmth _. He's probably just excited to get a hot drink in him_ , Gabriel thought. The man started to reach for his back pocket, presumably for his wallet.

"Nah, don't worry about it. It's on the house," Gabriel tried to give a genuine smile _. Please don't sue me please don't sue me please don't sue me._

The tall man gave him the same confused look from before. "That isn't necessary."

 _"_ It isn't," agreed Gabriel, "but I want to. You just have to come back again!" He shot the tall man a wink that he hoped came off as friendly and not creepy.

The man chucked bemusedly, still looking confused, but appreciative. "Ok… thanks, then. Have a good one!" He said as he walked toward the door.

"You too!" Gabriel called. "I expect to see you back here!"


	3. Food for Thought

"Alright sweetie, we're home!" Sam set Mary down inside the doorway of his apartment. She promptly ran over to her highchair. He had just picked up Mary from Jess after his trip to the coffee shop. He and Jess took classes on opposite schedules as much as possible, and alternated time with Mary. It limited which classes they could take based on what time block they were offered in, but it saved them money on childcare.

"Up up Up Up UP UP!" Mary looked at Sam and bounced in place, holding onto her highchair.

"Ok pumpkin, I'll help you up." Sam landed a kiss on Mary's forehead as he swooped the year and a half year old up and into her highchair. "Ready for snack?"

Mary nodded fervently. Sam poured out a few cheerios onto her tray to keep her occupied while he cut up some strawberries and mixed them in with unsweetened, plain, organic yogurt. Even though it was more expensive, he bought all of Mary's food at the farmer's market or the local co-op. He didn't want her ingesting all sorts of pesticides - she put enough things in her mouth that weren't supposed to be there as is.

Sam set the bowl of fruit and yogurt in front of Mary, and smiled as she attempted to use a spoon, then decided her fingers were more effective. He sat in the chair next to her at the table, getting lost in thought as she munched on a strawberry, juice running down her chin.

 _Was the barista flirting with me?_ Sam scrunched his eyebrows. _But he complimented himself, not me. Perhaps I was supposed to make some sort of quip back._ Sam knew that, though he was sarcastic and witty at times, a good comeback often escaped him. _What type of person calls himself hot - in front of a customer, no less? One who has low self-esteem, obviously._ Sam absentmindedly reached over and took one of Mary's yogurt-covered strawberries. _Either that or really high self-esteem. Like, egotism levels. Or maybe just confidence._ Sam frowned down at his own body. He used to be more confident of it, before he became a father at the same time as being a full-time student, and had less time to exercise. Not that he thought he looked _bad_ now, but definitely not as good as he used to.

He tried to remember what the barista looked like, to see if there was any truth to his claim. The man didn't look like he worked out, but he was well-built. Short, but lots of people were shorter than Sam. He had somewhat long (but not as long as Sam's) sandy-blond hair. Thin lips. Eyebrows that jumped upward when he talked. Expressive whiskey-colored eyes.

Sam really didn't think that the man constituted handsome in the usual sense, but there was something genuine and open about him that made him more attractive. Sam really didn't care much what someone looked like. He was attracted to intelligence, honesty, compassion - a person's character, rather than their body. He really didn't feel comfortable with physical interaction, period, until he knew someone quite well; and at that point, even if they weren't attractive by society's standards, they were to Sam.

Sam had heard the term "demisexual" only in the past year, and he thought it might describe him, but he wasn't quite sure. _It's like a spectrum, right? I don't have to choose one definition to box myself into._ Sam also had a vague idea that he wasn't quite straight, was maybe bisexual, but he had never met a guy that he was really interested in, and since he was maybe-sort-of demi, he didn't really feel physically attracted to men in general. _What a Catch-22. Hey, wanna be friends, so I can figure out many months down the road if I'm physically attracted to you and interested in something more? And if not, can we still just be friends? Cool? Great._ Sam snickered. _Yeah right._

Mary had by now upended her bowl onto her tray, eaten out all the strawberry chunks, and was finger painting with the remaining yogurt.

"Having fun, sweetie?"

Mary grinned at him devilishly.


	4. Hell Brings People Together

Sam hadn't intended on returning to _Expressoself!_. After his midterm, his brain felt like it had been pulverized, his hand ached from writing, and he had developed a headache from clenching his jaw and scrunching his eyebrows. When he had entered the classroom, it had been late afternoon; now it was dusk. He started wandering downtown, not really paying attention to where his feet were taking him, but rather thinking about problems he might have gotten wrong, what Jess might be doing with Mary, and the bills he had to pay.

There was a definite chill in the air that had arrived with the evening. Sam readjusted his scarf. _A hot chocolate sounds nice. And some type of pastry. Dessert as a reward for killing my brain._

He ended up in front of the door to the café he had visited several days ago.

 _What if The Barista is there?_ Sam then scolded himself. _You're an adult. So what if he says something…weird? He probably wasn't flirting with you anyway. Besides, the coffee_ was _really good._ Sufficiently reassured, Sam opened the door.

At first, Sam thought the coffee shop was closed. It was nearly empty - there were only a couple students inside, hunched over textbooks in the corner. It was quiet except for soft music playing, and the lights were turned down from their usual daytime cheer, giving a more candlelit-evening type of ambiance. No one greeted him, unlike his past visit. Sam hesitantly walked up to the counter. Maybe they _were_ closed.

However, upon reaching the counter, Sam could see that there was someone there, on the far side of the counter, away from the cash register. The barista from last time, sprawled halfway over the counter, resting his head on his hand, golden hair falling over his forehead, engrossed in a thick book.

Sam strode to the other end of the counter. Now closer, he could see the barista was reading Dante's _Inferno_.

"If he was fair as he is hideous now, / and raised his brow in scorn of his creator, / he is fit to be the source of every sorrow." Sam voice surprised himself. It surprised the barista too, whose head snapped up from where it had been mere inches from the pages.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in. That's terrible service. I'm sorry." The barista grimaced.

"No worries," Sam smiled, "Doing some light reading?"

"Well, about as light as Alighieri ever is," the man replied, "I'm in the ninth circle now. I actually just read the part you quoted - which is impressive, by the way." The man paused, quirking one eyebrow. "Did you memorize that for some law class or something? Like, 'pay attention, students, our punitive system could take some pointers from Hell'?"

Sam was quiet for a moment, surprised that the barista had remembered what he was studying. He then snorted. "No, thankfully. Though I think some of my professors would agree with that idea. No, I read for pleasure. Or, I used to, when I had more time." _Stop rambling, Sam. He didn't ask for your life story._

"Not many people would read _Inferno_ without being forced to," the barista looked at him… appreciatively? _No, probably not appreciation,_ thought Sam, _He just thinks you're a liar._

"What can I say - I like a challenge." Sam shrugged. _Great, now you sound like a cocky douche._

However, the barista only hummed and nodded in agreement. "Though, in my opinion, it's not the writing style that's difficult, it's all the historical references that are about Italy and Dante's political circle. And also the theology he uses… The Catholic theology in general, is…. Interesting." Sam thought it seemed like the man stopped himself from saying something else. Sam was curious what it was, so he tried to prod him along.

"I agree. I mean, maybe it's just because I'm a law student, but the punishment should fit the crime. So, what was Lucifer's crime that he's stuck in the ninth circle? He was cast out of Heaven because of hubris, and then on Earth he tempted Eve into disobeying God. It's interesting that he did that by telling the truth," Sam glanced at the barista, who was staring at him intently but with no hostility, and was actually nodding, so he continued. "God had said, 'You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will certainly die.' And then Satan tells Eve that she won't die, but that eating the fruit will allow her to tell good from evil. And she does, and she doesn't die, but she does become aware of right and wrong. So on one hand, Satan tells the truth, even though he is manipulative; but on the other hand, God outright lies." Sam shakes his head. "It doesn't make sense. Like, for his rebellion, Lucifer has to stay in Hell for eternity?" He took a breath. "I mean, I'm not a theology major though, so…" Sam added lamely.

 _Oh wow. Did I just go on a religious rant at some poor coffee shop worker? That's like, one of the things you're definitely NOT supposed to talk about unless you're looking for a fight. Nice going, Sam._

But instead of looking affronted at the blasphemy Sam had just spewed, the barista lit up. "Yes! In fact, I think the whole thing brings into question free will. I mean, first, I felt like it's a paradox - if Eve didn't know the difference between good and evil, how would she know that it was wrong to disobey God and eat the fruit? She wasn't making an informed choice, because she didn't have knowledge. So, why be punished for doing something she didn't know was wrong? She'd have to have eaten the fruit to obtain that knowledge - and thus free will - but that involves making the wrong, or evil, choice. She was kind of screwed to begin with."

Sam and the barista continued to talk animatedly about free will, and God, and whether or not Lucifer could be forgiven and redeemed, or if he would want to be. Partway through their conversation, the barista had reached into the display case and pulled out a couple cinnamon rolls, one of which he offered to Sam. Sam once again attempted to pay, and was once again waved off by the barista. They picked at their cinnamon rolls and discussed and argued and laughed. The barista responded intelligently and with wit, and often would pause, and ponder for a moment before answering Sam. The barista could be stubborn, and he didn't necessarily change his opinion when Sam disagreed with him, but he asked questions to clarify Sam's thoughts and seemed to try to understand Sam's perspective. It wasn't often that Sam came across someone who thought they were right, but didn't condescend others. He respected that about this barista.

Both men were broken out of their conversation when the door clanged shut as the two remaining students shuffled out. Sam realized he and the barista were leaning over the counter on their respective sides, and were quite close. He leaned back with the pretense of looking out the window. It was now pitch black outside.

"Oh wow, what time is it?" The barista looked at his watch. "I gotta close up! Anything you want before I start shutting everything down, kiddo?"

"I'm not a kiddo," Sam said reflexively, rolling his eyes.

"Sure you are," the barista smiled, "you look younger than me and you're in college." He winked, then turned around and started shutting off machines.

"Nah, I'm good," Sam said. He really didn't feel like he needed hot chocolate as a pick-me-up anymore; the engaging conversation had taken care of that.

"Here," the barista thrust a paper bag at him. Sam took it and peered inside; there were two chocolate bonbons.

"I made extra," the barista said casually.

"You know, giving out free stuff really isn't a good business model," Sam pointed out.

"It's not a problem as long as I don't do it for just anybody," the barista smirked. Sam could feel a blush rising on his cheeks. _Get ahold of yourself, Sam._ "It's the least I can do before I have to kick you out," the barista continued ruefully.

 _See? He's just being nice. Stop freaking out like you're in high school._

"Thank you," Sam said, and rose from the chair he had pulled up to the counter. He started to head toward the door, when the barista called after him.

"Hey, I'm Gabriel, by the way. Now that you know my views on theology, philosophy, and torture, I figured you can know my name."

Sam's eyes widened. How could he have not introduced himself or asked the barista's name? To be fair, the barista - Gabriel - wasn't wearing a nametag, but still.

"I'm Sam," Sam smiled at Gabriel as he walked to the door. "I'll be back."


	5. Reflections

As Sam walked to his car, he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. His night had turned out much better than he had hoped. As an introvert, normally he felt tired after talking to people, but tonight he felt energized. He was practically skipping. _Other people probably think I'm a lunatic. No one in their right mind looks this happy during midterm season._

Sam began to wonder why, exactly, it was that he was so happy. Sure, he had just had a very intellectually stimulating conversation, but he was intellectually stimulated on almost a daily basis with his classes. Perhaps because this time, it was a voluntary, reciprocal, spontaneous talk, instead of a lecture and a facilitated, contrived group discussion. And also, because someone actually took an interest in him, and Sam was a lonely loser with no friends.

Before they broke up, Sam always had Jess. Between classes, working odd hours at the library, and for the past year and a half, Mary, they really didn't have much time to socialize. Sam had even less time now that he was essentially functioning as a single parent. Sure, Mary spent a lot of time with Jess (tonight, for example), but most nights (and early mornings) Mary was with Sam. Jess moved back on campus and Sam got a different apartment off-campus, and it just made sense for Mary to stay with him rather than in a dorm room except occasionally on more quiet (party-free) nights on campus.

Sam had nearly forgotten what it felt like to have a friend who wasn't also a romantic partner - or his brother, Dean. Perhaps it was this, this giddy feeling. He felt comfortable around Gabriel. Their conversation never lulled; Gabriel had turned down some of his charm from Sam's previous visit, but he was still charismatic, easygoing, and funny. He appeared well-read, which Sam appreciated. He admitted he could be a bit of a literature snob. And Gabriel was obviously very intelligent. _I wonder what he's doing working as a barista?_

Even during the couple times Gabriel had said something that could be construed as flirtatious, Sam didn't feel extremely uncomfortable as he usually did. Perhaps because he was already lulled into a sense of security with talks of Hell and delicious cinnamon rolls. _Or, more likely, because he meant nothing by it,_ Sam reasoned. _But what if he did?_ A small voice in his head asked, _What if he was only talking to you because he wants a fling?_ Sam shushed the voice and allowed himself to dwell on happier thoughts.

 _I think I made a friend!_

Gabriel had always liked powerful people. Not the kind of power that came from a social construct of a position - like CEO or senator - but the kind of power that came from raw ability and talent. Something natural.

So when he had the opportunity to take a closer look at the man who wandered into _Expressoself!_ for the second time despite Gabriel's inappropriate flirting, he had to restrain himself from drooling. Sam had a very powerful physique - tall, broad-shouldered, strong jaw, large hands. Gabriel couldn't tell much beyond that, due to all the ridiculous layers Sam was wearing (he didn't even shed his coat during the entire conversation!), except that he lacked a gut, so he seemed fairly fit.

Gabriel eyed his own pudge in the mirror. _No wonder he was confused as to why I had flirted with him. He's probably used to like, underwear models eyeing him down, not squishy candy-addict-café owners._ He sighed. At least the man had seemed interested him as a friend, at the very least. Gabriel did keep in contact with some of his long-distance friends, but really the only person he knew in the area was his brother Cas. And Gabriel was someone who liked a lot of social time. Exes - namely, Balthazar - told him he could be a bit clingy; Gabriel liked to think that he wasn't _clingy_ , but physical affection and quality time were very important to him.

Tearing his thoughts from his desperate single status, he replayed the conversation he had had with Sam. A smile ghosted his lips. Sam, in addition to his powerful body, had a powerful personality. It was a quiet power - not brash or assuming, but still present. He was intelligent, well-spoken, and Gabriel could tell he was determined and ambitious - after all, no one could pursue a law degree at Stanford without those traits. Gabriel had difficulty maintaining a coherent discussion when Sam kept showing off his big vocabulary and strong build and those gorgeous eyes. Gabriel got shivers when he quoted Dante from memory. Damn, that was hot. Smart is the new sexy and all. Normally he reverted to shameless innuendos and humor when he was nervous, but he had tried to keep those in check after the previous encounter only seemed to baffle Sam.

In short, Sam was extremely attractive. However, he didn't reciprocate Gabriel's flirting, though he did chuckle a couple of times. _Gabriel, you don't even know if he's single. Or gay._ Gabriel resolved to keep his innuendos at a minimum if Sam ever came back in. No use in scaring away someone who could, at the very least, be a friend.

Gabriel absentminded fed his terrier, Max, and scratched him behind the ears before popping a chocolate truffle in his mouth. _Just one as a bedtime snack. Tomorrow, I'll go on a diet._


	6. The Book Club

Sam

Every one to two weeks Gabriel has a new book. _The Odyssey_ , _One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest_ , _King Lear_ , _Things Fall Apart_ , _Flight_ by Sherman Alexie, _Americanah_ by Adichie, _The Masnavi_ , _The Prince_ , _Snow Country_ by Kawabata, _A Tale of Two Cities_ , _Fahrenheit 451, Slaughterhouse 5._

 _Vonnegut. Dean would have liked to talk to Gabriel about that one._

Sam and Gabriel discussed class differences, insanity, colonialism, racism, indigeneity, economics, philosophy, xenophobia, patriotism, intellectual rights, subjective truth vs absolute truth. Sam appreciated that Gabriel read outside of the sphere of Western literature. He was attuned to other voices, other perspectives. He wanted to understand other people and protect their voices. Gabriel reminded Sam why he wanted to be a lawyer: to use the instrument of justice to return voices to people who had been silenced.

They discussed family, but not much of their own. Sam told Gabriel about Dean, who lived in Kansas. Gabriel had a brother, Castiel, who was actually studying entomology at Stanford, but evidently Castiel stayed quite busy with his studies and rarely made an appearance. Neither Sam nor Gabriel mentioned their parents and Sam didn't mention Mary.

It's not that Sam was ashamed of Mary - far from it. She was sweet, intelligent, strong-willed, and beautiful. He did not regret having her in the slightest. However, he was grasping tightly to this budding … whatever it was with Gabriel, and he didn't want to scare him away. Sam always feared that people would think he was some douche, or promiscuous, or irresponsible because he didn't have a serious job, he was still in college, and he had a kid. And he so enjoyed his weekly talks with Gabriel.

He would come in every Thursday evening, when Mary was with Jess, and when business was slowest for Gabriel. Gabriel's coworkers had taken to announcing (loudly) that Gabriel's boyfriend was here for his date. At first Sam had spluttered and corrected them, but by now he had ceased to be bothered by it. In fact, now he was the one who chuckled at Gabriel, who still flushed a faint pink as he smiled and walked over to their customary spot at the end of the counter. Sometimes he would have to leave to make an order, but they were still normally able to talk for a couple of hours. Sam didn't mind when customers came in. It was relaxing to watch Gabriel bustle about, working the machines with dexterous hands, chatting with people as he made recommendations for the best pastries or coffees to suit their tastes. Sam did note that he didn't flirt with other customers nearly as much as he did with Sam; but as Gabriel had yet to say anything to make Sam uncomfortable or ask him for any more than his company every Thursday, Sam tried not to dwell on this phenomenon too much.

Though, he suspected Gabriel might be gradually increasing the number of flirtatious comments he directed at Sam, but they only served to make Sam chuckle. He didn't take them seriously, and he wasn't witty and charismatic enough to quip back. Though he was still anxious Gabriel would get bored with Sam's … friendzoning? Was he friendzoning Gabriel? Was he not responding to Gabriel's advances? Was he responding too much? Does laughing count as encouraging his innuendos? Why was he worrying about this? _It's perfectly acceptable to "friendzone" people,_ Sam told himself.

But… he had visited Gabriel a few times outside of their normal Thursday time. Once he wanted to share an article he read about NASA's Cassini mission with Gabriel. Another time he just wanted a pick me up after office hours with a particularly curmudgeonly professor. And a third time he brought Gabriel a poem he had come across - ok, he was Googling references to Gabriel in the Bible, and came across it - a poem that mentioned Gabriel, by Adrienne Rich.

 _There are no angels yet_

 _here comes an angel one_

 _shut-off the dark_

 _side of the moon turning to me_

 _and saying: I am the plumed_

 _serpent the beast_

 _with fangs of fire and a gentle_

 _heart_

 _But he doesn't say that His message_

 _drenches his body_

 _he'd want to kill me_

 _for using words to name him_

 _I sit in the bare apartment_

 _reading_

 _words stream past me poetry_

 _twentieth-century rivers_

 _disturbed surfaces reflecting clouds_

 _reflecting wrinkled neon_

 _but clogged and mostly_

 _nothing alive left_

 _in their depths_

 _The angel is barely_

 _speaking to me_

 _Once in a horn of light_

 _he stood or someone like him_

 _salutations in gold-leaf_

 _ribboning from his lips_

 _Today again the hair streams_

 _to his shoulders_

 _the eyes reflect something_

 _like a lost country or so I think_

 _but the ribbon has reeled itself_

 _up_

 _He isn't giving_

 _or taking any shit_

 _We glance miserably_

 _across the room at each other_

 _It's true there are moments_

 _closer and closer together_

 _when words stick in my throat_

' _the art of love'_

' _the art of words'_

 _I get your message Gabriel_

 _just will you stay looking_

 _straight at me_

 _awhile longer_

It wasn't particularly cheery, and Sam knew it could be interpreted as the return of a scorned lover or the emptiness of modernity or some other socioeconomic statement. Nevertheless, Sam thought it captured Gabriel's strength; the regality he had despite his constant jokes that had something to do with his confidence and his intelligence; and the way Sam couldn't quite describe him, couldn't quite hold him still with words; the way there was some type of wanting in the poem that resonated with the way Sam felt. He couldn't put words to that feeling either. Maybe it was something about how the characters in the poem reflected the way Sam and Gabriel sit across from each other, and somehow Sam feels like he is seen. That Gabriel sees him.

Amidst his musings, horror descended on Sam. _I gave Gabriel a poem. About himself. Or rather, his namesake. He must think I'm some crazy stalker freak. Or a teenage girl._ He rested his head in his hands. _I'm such an idiot._

Gabriel

Gabriel found himself humming contentedly, thinking about Sam. He looked at the clock - it was nearly time for their weekly book club meeting.

He had the poem Sam gave him folded up under the cash drawer. On occasion he pulled it out and mulled over why Sam might have given it to him, why it reminded Sam of him besides his name, and if it meant anything at all.

Thursdays were his favorite day of the week. His staff knew it too. As Thursday approached, he became more chipper. He made sure every inch of _Expressoself!_ was spotless, filled the pastry display, and on occasion re-designed the menu board. The past few months (had it really been a few months already?) had been filled with the stress associated with figuring out how to run a business (paperwork and accounting. So much paperwork) but it felt so worthwhile, seeing how his coffee and baked goods made his customers happy, and seeing Sam. Gabriel was pretty sure he would have opened the café just to see Sam's dimples.

Gabriel wasn't sure why he hadn't pursued a date with Sam, or even given him his number. Maybe it was the way Sam never seemed to return his affection, though he didn't responded _unfavorably,_ per se. Gabriel had decided that it was probably best to let Sam make the first move, to avoid making a fool of himself. He had his hopes up, since Sam had yet to mention any significant other, but he was trying to guard his heart. Trying to stay just distant enough that if Sam decided to move on to some other coffeeshop and some other barista that it wouldn't kill him.

Keeping his distance was difficult. It was so hard.

Gabriel snickered at his own wording.

Gabriel knew he wasn't fooling anyone, least of all himself. He hadn't even gotten laid since he had met Sam (which was some sort of a record for Gabriel). He simply didn't feel right flirting with (and certainly not having sex with) someone else when his thoughts were with a certain hazel-eyed, flannel-clad, ridiculously tall and smart and perfect man.

 _Ting!_

Gabriel jumped, and immediately a grin broke across his face. _Sam._

"Good evening, good lookin'!" He called. Then stared. Sam had… something strapped to his chest.

Sam

Sam was becoming increasingly agitated, and tried to force himself to calm down. Mary first pulled off his hat, then poked him in the eye.

"Ow!"

Mary giggled. Sam frowned at her. "Mary, you need to be gentle with other people. That hurt daddy." Mary grinned. _You can't reason with a toddler,_ Sam thought, exasperated.

It was Thursday. Mary was supposed to be with Jess, but Jess had gotten sick, so Mary was spending the evening with Sam while Jess was taking Nyquil and on bedrest. The last thing they needed was for Mary to get sick too.

Mary had been driving Sam insane. Normally, on a November evening, they would be reading books or coloring or putting together a simple puzzle inside, but Mary was cranky and loopy with boundless energy, so Sam decided to take her on a walk. He strapped her in the Tula carrier, plopped a hat on her head, and zipped his coat around both of them. He was sure they looked strange, but as long as Mary was warm, he didn't care. They wandered around campus for around half an hour, looking at the Thanksgiving decorations that had started to go up in front of academic buildings and shops, and then Sam had started to panic about his date - no, his meeting, or his talk, or whatever it was - with Gabriel.

If he didn't show, Gabriel might think that he didn't care, or that he ditched him. _Sam, he's a grown man. He'll probably just assume you're busy, or sick, or actually got a social life by some miracle._ But Sam had a feeling this wasn't true. Gabriel, though he hid it well, was a worrier. He would probably be concerned with Sam's wellbeing.

But if he did go, how would he explain Mary?

If Gabriel viewed him as a friend, he would probably be angry that Sam didn't trust him enough to tell him sooner, and never want to see Sam again; or if he did, it would be awkward.

If Gabriel viewed him as a potential love interest, he would still be angry that Sam didn't trust him enough to tell him earlier and never want to see Sam again, and he _definitely_ wouldn't be interested in anything romantic with Sam anymore. No one wants to be pulled into that - some messy arrangement with kids and parenting schedules and exes and responsibilities. Not that Sam was anywhere near sure he wanted a romantic relationship with Gabriel, but he did know that he didn't want to lose the chance should he want to pursue it in the future, at the very least.

Sam's conflicted dithering had lead him to the front door of the café. Again. _I have to stop letting my feet wander while I think._ Sam realized he had probably been standing there for awhile. Gabriel had probably already seen him. Sam resigned himself to going in. He steeled himself and opened the door.


	7. Meet the Family

Gabriel peered at the bulge under Sam's coat as Sam walked closer. It was mostly covered with Sam's coat, but with some sort of knitted thing at the top. Then the bulge _moved,_ and Gabriel realized the knitted thing was a hat, and the hat was on a small child that Sam was carrying close to his chest. A small child with beautiful hazel eyes.

 _Oh._

Gabriel shifted his gaze to Sam's eyes - _the same eyes -_ and saw that Sam looked hardened, defensive, and terrified. His mouth was in a grim line, in contrast to the dimpled smile he usually had when he visited, and his brows were drawn so tightly together it would have been comical had Gabriel not been so concerned with Sam's state of mind.

 _Say something, Gabriel, make him laugh. You wanna see those dimples again, don't you?_

"So this is the reason you need so much coffee, Samsquatch!" Gabriel smirked. He noted Sam nodding vacantly, almost unconsciously, like tiredness was just a state of being to him. Gabriel turned to start making a hot chocolate for Sam while he was getting his thoughts in order.

 _Sam has a kid. And he didn't tell me._

Gabriel could hear Sam shifting his feet, could almost picture the look of agonized discomfort on his face.

"How old is she?" He turned to glance over his shoulder at Sam. He wanted to make Sam comfortable, he wanted Sam to feel safe.

"Eighteen months," Sam's normally baritone voice almost squeaked.

 _Poor kid. He doesn't even look older than twenty-two. He probably doesn't always get a nice reception when people learn he knocked some girl up. Knowing him, he probably feels guilty as hell about it, even if it does take two to tango._

 _Some girl. He's not gay._ Gabriel wanted to sink into the floor. He then gave himself a mental slap. _Come on, Gabriel, get ahold of yourself. Your friend needs you right now._

Gabriel put extra whipped cream on the hot chocolate (just like how Sam liked it) and turned around to set it on the counter. He could mope later.

Sam had unzipped his coat now; it was now clear that he was holding the child in some sort of carrier. Gabriel really didn't know much about these things, but he had seen some moms (and a couple dads) come into the café with their little ones in something like that. The little girl had Sam's eyes, and his rich brown hair color, but her hair was curled in cute little spirals that peeked out from under her hat. She looked at him with wide hazel eyes in an intensity that was both endearing and unnerving. It reminded him a little bit of his brother, Castiel.

Sam was staring at Gabriel too; or rather, through him. He seemed lost in his own little world of panic.

"Hey Sam," Gabriel said softly. Sam's eyes focused on him. "She definitely got your good looks." The words held humor, but Gabriel softened them with a small smile.

Sam gave a shaky smile back, and let out a whoosh of air. "Thanks."

Gabriel scooted the mug of hot chocolate over to Sam. "What's her name?"

"Mary," Sam answered. "I'm sorry Gabriel, I don't really do hot drinks with…" he trailed off and motioned to Mary in the carrier. "Kind of a safety thing in case I spill it."

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't think about that," Gabriel paused, "You know, there isn't anyone here. You could let her out, if you want. I have everything put away."

"You sure?" Sam raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Yup. How much damage can one toddler do?" Gabriel winked. "Here, I'll get her a treat too." He began walking toward the refrigerator in the back of the café.

"Gabe, she can't have sugar!" Sam's voice followed him. Gabriel chuckled, and returned with one of the bananas he used in his smoothies.

"Sam, I'm not a parent, but I do have a basic understanding of nutrition."

"Wouldn't know it from the way you eat," Sam jabbed absentmindedly as he unstrapped the baby carrier. He froze and blushed. "Erm - I'm sorry - I'm not saying you're - you look-"

Gabriel interrupted before Sam gave himself an aneurism. "Sammich, it's fine. And it's true. Though I am trying to eat healthier. I'm not exactly getting younger," He looked dolefully at his stomach. Gabriel then brightened, "But, I did help out a lot with Cassie when he was little, and he is in fine shape. In fact, I've been telling him that guys and girls alike would be all over him if he would just _get out of his apartment,_ but that's a story for another day. Is it ok if she has a banana?"

Mary had been watching this whole proceeding with huge eyes, and frantically tapped her fingertips together, signing for "more".

"That's fine," Sam smiled. He set her on the floor, and Gabriel knelt down and offered her a chunk of banana. The little girl looked at him suspiciously, then approached and snatched the banana from Gabriel, only to return and hide behind Sam's long legs while eating it. Sam removed her hat and ruffled her hair.

Gabriel felt a rush of pride and affection toward Sam. This whole time, Sam had been going to school full-time, and raising a kid. And he was obviously doing a good job. He seemed so careful with this precious little girl, who looked so much like him.

Sam seemed more at ease now, meeting Gabriel's eyes and holding his gaze, though Gabriel noted his hand didn't leave Mary's head.

"Mary is a beautiful name."

"She's named after my mom. My mom died in a house fire when I was six months old, so I never knew her, but I thought it would be nice to honor her memory." Sam shrugged, seeming embarrassed by his sentimentality.

"I'm sure she would be proud to have such a lovely little girl named after her," Gabriel smiled at Sam.

"Thanks," Sam said softly.

Gabriel took his customary place across the counter from Sam. "So, I guess this is the reason why you spend your evenings with a lame coffeeshop owner, rather than out on the college party scene?" Gabriel smirked to hide his wounded ego. Surely Sam would rather be somewhere else, but was simply unable to. Gabriel couldn't imagine it was all that easy to make social connections or attend events when you have a kid who probably wakes up at who-knows-what time early the next morning.

"Eh, I don't feel like I'm missing much. Never been a partier. Much more of a nerd - as you know." Sam grinned and took a sip of his hot chocolate, then continued more quietly, "I'd rather be here with you. And Mary's mom was sick, so…" He trailed off, then raised his eyebrows suddenly. "Wait. You said coffeeshop owner. You own this place?"

Gabriel huffed a laugh, but he couldn't help but puff up a little in pride. "You didn't know that? Hm. Obviously I'm not bragging enough!" Gabriel joked. "This is my humble little brain-child. An expensive one too, but I think she's gonna pull through for me." He looked around the shop lovingly.

Sam raised his eyebrows, impressed. "Wow. I thought you just worked here. That's awesome. Business seems to be doing well, too - I mean, when I've come in when it's not evening, you're slammed." Sam looked thoughtful for a moment. "Gabe, may I ask…. How old are you? I mean, you can't be that much older than me, and you already have your own business and everything. It's a little intimidating." Sam looked at Gabriel through long lashes over his cup of hot chocolate.

"What, you got a thing for older men, Sammy?" Gabriel snorted. Sam blushed a light pink, but didn't deny the accusation. _Interesting…_ Gabriel stopped that train of thought before it left the station. _Dammit Gabriel, stop flirting for two seconds._ "I'm twenty-six. Prime of my life, I might add," Gabriel winked. " _And_ since when did you call me Gabe? Now that I met Mary, are we on a nickname-basis?"

"Sorry, that just came out," Sam said sheepishly, then retorted, "And besides, you already call me like, a dozen nicknames!"

"S'fine, I like it." _Gabriel, you sap. You'd like whatever this kid calls you._

"Anyway," Sam continued, "That's the same age as Dean. And he's very driven and very smart - though he won't admit it, always says I'm the smart one, like there can only be one smart sibling - and he wants to own his own mechanic shop someday, but he isn't there yet. My point being, it's unusual and impressive that someone as young as you has their own business."

Now it was Gabriel's turn to blush. "Oh, stop it, you!" But he couldn't help but grin under the praise. "Thanks, Sam," he said more seriously. "And thank you also for letting me meet Mary."

Mary had now ventured out from behind Sam's legs and had her face pressed up against the display case.

"Shoot, I'm sorry," Sam moved to pull her away before she left too many smears on the glass, but Gabriel waved him off.

"Don't worry about it, it needs cleaned anyway. She isn't the first little kiddo to put their paws all over it."

Sam still looked apologetic.

"Sam," Gabriel hesitated, meeting Sam's eyes, "You know, you could have told me earlier. I would hope that you would have realized that I wouldn't judge you."

"I know," Sam mumbled at his feet, "I was just… nervous." The last word was punctuated with a shrug.

"It's ok," Gabriel reassured. "You should bring her by more often."

Sam raised an eyebrow at him. "Really? She can be kind of… destructive, if not entertained."

"I mean, we can still do our Thursday … thing," _Thing? Really Gabriel?_ "But if you brought her by some other times too, I wouldn't complain."

Sam stared at him a moment, apparently trying to figure out if he was being serious. Evidently satisfied, he nodded. "Thanks, Gabriel."

"Don't worry about it, Sammykins." Gabriel crouched down next to the toddler. "And it was a pleasure to meet you, Mary. Keep your dad on his toes." He looked up and shot Sam a wink. Mary contemplated him seriously, then waved a little hand. "Bye!" She cooed.

Sam picked her up again and secured her against his chest. Gabriel found himself envious of a toddler, to his dismay. He wanted to snuggle up to Sam too, and listen to his heartbeat, and run his fingers through his long hair, while Sam holds him tight -

Sam's voice broke into his thoughts. "Thanks again for the hot chocolate. I'll see you next Thursday, or maybe sooner." He started walking toward the door. "Goodnight, Gabe," Sam smiled.

"Goodnight Sam. Goodnight Mary," Gabriel waved as they walked out the door and faded into the night.


	8. Table for Two

Gabriel

Gabriel eyed different types of child safety locks. He picked up packages from two different brands, compared them, and couldn't tell the difference. _How do parents even figure this stuff out? Like, there's so many options, and there isn't exactly an instruction manual!_ He shrugged and put several packages of the cheaper brand in his cart - along with the board books, crayons, several coloring books, and kid-sized table he had picked out. Gabriel rolled his eyes at himself. _Man, you have it bad. You STILL don't even know if he's attracted to men._

Gabriel knew that Sam had been with a woman in his previous relationship, of which Mary was a result. He felt a pang of jealousy, even though he knew he had no claim on Sam. He was sure his ex was gorgeous and perfect and smart… At least, he prayed that she was an ex. He figured that if they were still together, Sam would have mentioned her. He seemed like the type of person who would show off a significant other like they were something special, because that's just who Sam is - he sees the best in people and wants them to shine.

Gabriel was hoping desperately that Sam was pan, or bi, or _something_ that would even present the possibility of him wanting a relationship with a gay coffeeshop owner. His stomach twisted when he realized how selfish he was being. Gabriel tried to strengthen his resolve. _Even if all I get out of this is a friendship, that is more than enough. And I need to show Sam that._

Sam

Sam hummed to himself while he drove to campus with Mary. He was planning on popping by to say hi to Gabriel, and he felt a happy anticipation. Sam realized that the past few months, he really had been in a much better mood. _Probably one of the side effects of actually talking to people your age outside of class,_ Sam thought. Worry tainted his contentment. _Am I going to seem clingy? Or like a stalker? It's only been two days since I saw Gabe last._ He rolled some of the tension out of his shoulders. He was already on campus now, it would be pointless to turn back. He parked, and this time let Mary walk instead of carrying her. She could stand to burn off some energy. Sam had to stoop to one side to hold her hand, but it was worth the ache in his back to see her toddling along with heavy but mostly steady footsteps, the pompom on her hat bobbing as she walked beside him. She would sometimes stop and point at trees, snowbanks, a dog, a passing car, or whatever else caught her attention, and babble at Sam, her eyes attentive and bright.

Even walking at Mary's pace, they reached _Expressoself!_ soon enough. Sam felt nerves fluttering in his stomach. He always felt nervous when he attempted to socialize with Mary present; it was difficult to divide his attention between her and his companion, and he always felt like he wasn't being very good company as a result. In addition, often whomever he was meeting with seemed unsure how to act around Mary. They either ignored her entirely, would only talk about her and nothing else to Sam, or would talk at her in a singsongy voice that made Mary scowl.

 _Not Gabe though._ Sam smiled. He had expected Gabriel to act like the other childless bachelors he knew - awkward and uncomfortable. But no, he had wanted to take care of Mary by giving her a snack, didn't care when she practically drooled on his display case, and crouched down on her level to talk to her - without the irritating singsongy tone. Sam wondered how much younger Castiel was than Gabriel, and if that's why Gabriel seemed at ease around children.

Feeling reassured, Sam entered the coffeeshop, Mary in tow. There were a few people in line, so he just stood off to the side and watched Gabe make their drinks and hand out pastries. Gabriel had a nice smile. It lit up his whole face, and Sam couldn't help but smiling too when he saw it. Gabe's laughter was contagious as well - normally he only gave a little chuckle, but a few times Sam had been able to make him really laugh - a loud cackling that involved his entire body.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows at Sam. Sam had been so lost in his recollections that he hadn't realized that Gabriel had finished handing out the last coffee and had started walking toward him. Sam could feel himself blushing and his palms started to sweat. Fortunately, Gabriel didn't leave him to suffer long.

"Come on, have a seat," he said as he pulled up a chair for Sam at their usual place at the counter.

"Such a gentleman," Sam chuckled. _Oh no. Did I just say that? Reign it in, Sam._ Sam knew Gabriel handed out flirtations like candy, but he didn't want to make him uncomfortable by adopting that practice. He lead Mary over to the chair and settled her on his lap.

"Does that make you the girl?" Gabriel teased.

Sam gave him what Dean called his "bitchface".

"Ouch!" Gabriel put a hand to his heart. "Sam, I'm surprised you had that in you, beneath that outer layer of sweetness and innocence!"

"Yeah, well," Sam gestured at Mary, "Not entirely innocent, obviously."

"Sam, as much as I would love to discuss your sex life, I'm not sure that's polite table talk," Gabriel winked. Sam blushed again. _Dammit._

Gabriel turned and reached into the back of the display case. "Here, I actually have something for Mary. I made banana and rice-flour crackers. Would she like some?" He glanced up at Sam questioningly.

"Um, sure," Sam raised an eyebrow, "Is that typically part of your menu?"

"Nah, I just knew you guys couldn't stay away, so I figured Mary would like something to munch on," Gabriel said as he handed Mary the cracker. Mary looked at him with suspicion, again, but accepted the food more quickly than she had the previous visit.

Gabriel leaned across the counter. "See Mary, I'm gonna try to keep luring you both in here with good food. So you tell your dad how much you love my baking, ok?"

Mary nodded seriously as Sam laughed.

"Thanks Gabe, you didn't have to do that."

"No," Gabe's voice softened, "But I wanted to."

Sam paused, unsure of how to reply. He wasn't accustomed to people doing things for him. Even with Jess, he had really been the one managing the household, paying the bills, and caring for Mary half the time. After a long hesitation, he asked, "So, what made you decide that you wanted to own a coffeeshop?"

"That's a good question," Gabriel looked contemplative and distant, "I've always liked the atmosphere of a good café and bakery. Once Cas was old enough that I didn't have to watch him as much, whenever my older brothers would start bickering, I would go to the café up the road. It was nice, just kind of watching people bustling about, and the smell of the coffee, the background noise… even though it was busy, it felt peaceful, you know?" He made eye contact with Sam. "I'd sit there and read and just unwind for hours… And I wanted to be able to give that to other people. Besides," Gabriel winked, "I really am a good cook. I love food - a bit too much, depending on who you ask - and I love baking everything here."

Sam peered at the display case. "You bake all of this?"

"That I do," Gabriel replied, "Well, some of the more simple things - like the cookies or whatever - I sometimes have my employees do. But everything else is me. It's relaxing, most of the time." Gabriel shrugged.

Sam had never paid much attention to the display case - he was normally more engrossed with his conversation with Gabriel. Now he looked. There were cookies and croissants, danishes, muffins, strudel, pie slices, small cakes with intricate floral designs in the frosting. Even the more simple desserts had beautiful presentation - a dusting of powdered sugar here, some lemon zest there, a few pieces of shaved chocolate on top.

"Wow," Sam brought his eyes back to Gabe, "You must stay busy."

Gabriel raised his eyebrows pointedly. "You too."

Sam chucked wryly. "Yeah, I do." At this point, Mary was trying to climb off of his lap and onto the counter, and screeched when Sam tried to hold her in place. Sam grimaced. "Sorry. She's very vocal about what she wants."

"Nah, it's fine. That's a good thing. She should learn early to speak her mind loud and clear," Gabriel shot Sam a grin. "Actually, I might have something she might like. C'mere." Gabriel straightened from where he was leaning on the counter. Sam lifted Mary and hesitated, staying behind the invisible line dividing public customer space and the workers' area.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "C'mon, I own the place. No one's going to fire me for letting you back here." Sam laughed and followed him. He actually didn't have to go far; only just around the corner, tucked behind the counter that hosted the expresso machine and within eyesight of Gabriel and Sam's counter, was a small, child-sized table. It was covered with a plaid tablecloth that vaguely reminded Sam of one of his shirts. In the center was a mason jar painted teal, full of crayons, and in a crate on the table there were a couple coloring books and some picture books.

"Ta-da!" Gabriel gestured toward the table.

Sam gaped. His throat tightened, and he was at a complete loss for words.

Gabriel seemed to take his silence as disapproval. "I mean, I don't have kids, so I wasn't sure if she could really color yet, but I got non-toxic crayons, and I tried to find books that looked sturdy and had high contrast. But, I mean, if it's not age-appropriate, just let me know," Gabriel rambled, "Oh! And I put child safety locks on all the cupboards. My cashier couldn't get into them without help, so I figured they'd work for Mary," He laughed nervously.

"Gabe," Sam finally croaked, "It's perfect. Thank you." Mary walked up, sat on one of the little chairs, pulled one coloring book out and threw it on the floor, then found a picture book and started flipping through it, pointing at images and babbling. "Here," Sam began to pull out his wallet, "All that stuff couldn't have been cheap, I can pay you back."

"Nuh-uh," Gabriel wagged a finger at him, "If you pay me, I'll just have to keep forcing free drinks and pastries on you,"

"You do that anyway," Sam said weakly, "And doing stuff for free isn't really a good business model."

Gabriel smiled broadly. "Well, good thing I don't do stuff for free for just anyone."


	9. Impending Family Visit

Sam

Sam laid in bed, listening to Mary's soft snores from her crib. The sound was reassuring. Sam couldn't have told how much time he spent hovering over her little body, especially when she was younger, his hand on her chest to make sure she was breathing. Even Jess told him he was being neurotic. _Come back to bed Sam, you checked on her five minutes ago!_ He smiled at the memory. Even if it was for the best, he missed Jess's companionship. He missed someone laying next to him in bed, someone to cuddle up to him on early mornings, someone to talk to when he got home after a stressful day. Sam made his lover his world; without a partner, where he thought he would feel vacant, he felt overfull; he had no one upon whom to bestow the romantic affection and care that he possessed. Of course, most of his time and energy was consumed taking care of Mary, but that was obviously different than the way he cared for a partner.

Sam couldn't quite name the feeling. It wasn't loneliness (though he felt that too). Rather, he felt… unhinged. Disconnected. Full of love, with nowhere to spend it.

Sam envied the couples with children who were together. It had been nice when both him and Jess were home with Mary. There is something about parenting in tandem with someone else, just having another person present, that seems to disperse the stress of caring for a young one. Sam wanted that. He ached for family dinners and reading picture books on the couch together and going for walks hand in hand, all three of them in a line.

 _It was your choice, Sam. You could still have that._ Sam knew he wouldn't have been truly happy, however. He loved Jess; he still loved her as a friend. But he just needed something _more._ He wasn't even sure what. So, as a result, now he would have to deal with all these roiling emotions alone.

As much as Sam was driven to provide for someone, it was a nice change of pace to be cared for. Something as simple as Gabriel offering Sam and Mary a snack and providing some conversation and a distraction from the monotonous routine that Sam normally followed with Mary (lunch, nap, snack, outdoor play, dinner, bath, books, bed) felt hugely relieving. It was a weight off his shoulders. As if that weren't enough, he carved out a space for Mary and Sam in his shop. He spent his time and money making sure they were comfortable. Sam wasn't sure what would have possessed Gabriel to do that. Sam was just some guy who came in to chat with him on Thursdays, who hadn't even trusted him enough to tell him about his family. And yet here Gabriel was, selflessly welcoming Sam and Mary into his life. Gabriel must think _something_ special of him. After all, he had said he wouldn't do something like that for just anyone. Sam felt a fluttering in his chest at the thought; confusing, but pleasant and warm. _Much like Gabriel himself,_ Sam thought sleepily.

Sam

Sam had just picked Mary up from Jess after his classes finished and was just unlocking the door to his apartment when his phone started buzzing in his pocket. He still had Mary in one arm, his keys and her diaper bag in the other. He disgracefully dropped the keys and the diaper bag, gently set down Mary (who immediately ran over to her toy barn) and pried the phone from his pocket.

"Hello?"

"Sammy! It's good to hear from you. How's life in Cali?"

"Hey, Dean," Sam smiled. "I'm good. How're things with you?"

"Oh, same old, same old. People are morons who don't know how cars work. Still saving up to start up the garage. Impala's still running." Dean sounded nonchalant, but Sam could tell he was happy to talk to him. Sam felt a rush of guilt - it had been awhile since he'd called his brother.

Dean continued, "Hey, you getting out much?"

Sam rolled his eyes. Dean had been asking that ever since he broke up with Jess. He knew he had good intentions, but Sam just couldn't do casual relationships or hookups. "If by 'getting out' you mean going to my classes and making daily trips to the library, yes. If you mean having sex, no."

"C'mon, man! You gotta use that bod while you're young. Chicks would be all over you! You can rock the single dad vibe."

"I'm _am_ rocking the single dad vibe," Sam said distractedly, cradling the phone on his shoulder while he put away his keys, backpack, and Mary's diaper bag.

"Dude! You gotta girl?"

"No, Dean, I do not 'have' a girl - which is a misogynistic phrasing, anyway."

"Dude. Stanford has turned you into a bleeding feminist. I don't believe you. Who is she? Spill."

"There isn't -" Sam was going to say _anyone_ , but it just didn't feel right, " - a girl." He knew Dean heard his hesitation. Once Dean put his mind to something, he had laser-like focus on details.

"Suuurrre. Well, if it gets serious, I want to meet her. Use protection!"

"Dean, did you just call to talk about my sex life?"

"Nah. That would be a boring call - " Sam scoffed. " - I actually was planning on visiting next week. If that's ok. I have a few vacation days, and you'll be on winter break by then, right?"

Sam realized he was nodding instead of talking into the phone. "Yeah, that's right." He finished up his final exams this week. He had been planning on sleeping and binge reading and binge watching Netflix the following week, but he supposed that could be put off if it meant getting to see Dean.

"Awesome. I'm not sure if I'll get a hotel yet or if I'll be crashing with you."

Sam glanced around his small and messy apartment. Cleaning with a toddler was a very fruitless effort that was normally undone within half an hour. "Um. Yeah. Whichever works."

"Ooh! Is she sleeping over? I'll get a hotel, no worries Sammy! I'll even take Mary for a couple nights, how about that?" Sam could practically see him wiggling his eyebrows.

Sam sighed. Dean was inventing a girlfriend for him. But hey, if it allowed him a couple nights of sleeping in, he wasn't going to complain. "That'd be nice, Dean. Thank you," he said genuinely.

"No prob. I'll let you know in a few days exactly when I'll be arriving."

"Yup, talk to you soon."

"Bye Sammy."

Gabriel

Gabriel pulled the poem that shared his name out from under the cash drawer. No one was in the store and he had already stocked up the display cases, so he allowed himself a moment to daydream.

Not that he would admit it to Sam, but he had found a poem for Sam too. Or rather, one that described how he felt around Sam. Not that Sam would ever read it, because their relationship was unlikely to progress beyond friendship, but a man could hope.


	10. I Can't Take You Anywhere

Sam

Sam was rudely awakened from his nap on the couch - his legs hanging off at awkward angles from one armrest - by a banging on his door. He had a moment of confusion as he roused himself from sleep. After his finals, he decided to catch up on some sleep while Mary napped. _Oh right. Dean._ He looked around his apartment, toys scattered everywhere across the floor. _Crap._ Sam had intended to pick up a little bit; he didn't need Dean thinking he was some sort of slob. For all of the grease and grime Dean got covered in on a daily basis at the garage, he was a closet neat-freak. His apartment was always immaculate, like, eat-off-the-floors type of clean. _Well, too late to clean now._ Sam swung his legs off the couch and opened the door.

"Sammy!" Dean boomed as he swaggered in. He cast an eye around the apartment. "Not bad! I'd say this might even be a bit better than your old place!" He dropped his duffle bag and pulled Sam into a hug. "I've missed you, little bro."

Sam resisted the urge to tell Dean that he was not, in fact, little. Instead, he tightened the hug and said, "I've missed you too, Dean." It felt good to have his big brother here. Reassuring and safe. Dean had always looked out for Sam, and it was nice to be able to let his guard down a bit and let Dean watch out for him - not that Sam would ever admit to it.

Wailing started from the bedroom. "Looks like we woke Mary up," Sam said with a half smile. He went to pick her up out of her crib. She blinked blearily at him, one side of her face red with lines from where she slept with her cheek smushed into the mattress. "Yeah, I know, it sucks to be woken up in the middle of a nap, doesn't it?" Sam said softly. "Uncle Dean is here. Wanna say hi?" Sam carried her out to the living room. Immediately, Dean took her from Sam and scooped her up.

"How's my favorite little tyke? You've gotten big! Got some of your dear ol' dad's genes, huh?"

Mary looked at Dean somewhat blankly, as if trying to place where she knew him from. Evidently she remembered, because she gave a toothy smile.

"That's my girl," Dean returned her grin and began to tickle her sides. Mary shrieked with laughter and squirmed until Dean put her down.

"Hey, you guys eat yet?" Dean asked, "I can take you out somewhere. My treat. We can take a stroll downtown too. I gotta stretch my legs after being in Baby for two days." Dean stretched with his arms over his head for effect.

"Free food for the poor college student? You won't hear any complaints from me." Sam chuckled as he grabbed his wallet and Mary's diaper bag. "I have to drop Mary off with Jess first, ok?"

After moving Mary's carseat to the Impala (Dean said there was no way they were riding in Sam's RAV4 when he had Baby as an option), dropping of Mary at Jess's dorm, and finally finding parking, they were walking downtown. It was Saturday, but there actually weren't that many students out walking - most of them had shipped out for home the moment their exams were finished.

Dean whistled as he walked with his hands in his pockets of his jacket. Several college-age girls ogled him, and he gave them a charming (if a bit wolfish) smile.

Sam rolled his eyes. "I can't take you anywhere, you know that?"

"C'mon Sammy, lighten up! You gotta get some action sometime, right?"

Sam stayed silent, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. He never understood how Dean could feel comfortable sharing his body with a stranger. Even just imagining someone he didn't know intimately touching him made Sam tense with revulsion.

Dean didn't seem perturbed by Sam's lack of response, however. "Hey, you feeling like sushi? Burgers? One of your girly salads?"

"Doesn't matter," Sam shoved his unpleasant thoughts of one-night-stands aside.

Sam was vaguely aware that they were approaching _Expressoself!_ and couldn't help but feel a twinge of longing.

As if reading his mind, Dean said, "Hey, coffee here good? I could use some. I ended up driving through most of the night."

Sam nodded weakly and made some affirmative noise. He sometimes felt caught up in the whirlwind that was Dean: unstoppable, single-minded energy and charisma that just dragged along anyone caught in its path. And so he found himself following Dean in, anxiety rising in his chest, although he wasn't sure why. _You're just going to get a coffee for Dean. No big deal._ What Sam didn't want to admit to himself was that he didn't want to have to discuss his friendship with Gabriel. Dean would somehow prize out of him the story of how they met, and then he'd compare it to a romcom, and Sam would never hear the end of the teasing of how gay he was. _Am I gay?_ Sam wondered. _Stupid question. Obviously not. I was with Jess._ But… something about insisting he was straight, like Dean liked to proclaim every chance he got, somehow felt wrong. And somewhere in the midst of Sam's undefined sexuality was Gabriel.

At this point, Sam felt like he was going to have a panic attack if he so much as saw Gabriel. _Maybe he's not working today._ But Sam soon saw that fortune was not on his side.

As soon as he and Dean stepped into the doorway, Gabriel's eyes met his. Gabriel positively _beamed._ He couldn't do much else, as he was taking a customer's order - there was a line ahead of Sam and Dean - but just that smile was enough to prompt one from Sam in return and kindle a warm feeling in his chest.

All he had to do was keep himself separate from Dean and Gabriel to avoid any awkward conversations. "Hey, I'll go find us a table," Sam tried for a casual tone.

"Cool," Dean said absently, looking at the menu.

Sam stalked to a table in the corner of the café as inconspicuously as a six-foot-four man can. He sat and waited for Dean to return with his coffee, staring at the tablecloth.

Dean soon flopped into the chair opposite him. "Dude. The barista was giving me, like, some really intense, creepy look."

Sam's raised his gaze from the intriguing tablecloth pattern and looked toward the counter. Gabriel met his eyes and raised one eyebrow. Sam smiled weakly before focusing on Dean.

"Don't worry about it," He tried to sound nonchalant. He wished he had gotten his own coffee, or had brought a newspaper, or _something,_ because now he had nothing to do but stare at either Dean, Gabriel, or the tablecloth. He opted for a fourth choice, looking out the window at passerby, while Dean slurped his coffee across from him.

"Sam. Now he's making goo-goo eyes at _you_."

Sam shrugged casually, as if guys making goo-goo eyes at him was a common occurrence.

" _Sam!"_ Dean hissed. Sam pretended not to hear him, instead traced a finger through the condensation his breath had formed on the window.

"Oi! You leave any fingerprints on that, you're cleaning it, Samsquatch!"

Sam jumped, nearly falling out of his chair, and windmilled his arms like a startled bird for a moment while he regained his balance. Gabriel snickered.

"Gabe," he wheezed, once he had his feet solidly on the floor again.

"You're not going to go into cardiac arrest, are you? Here, have a scone. It'll make you feel better," Gabriel winked as he placed the dessert in front of Sam.

"Thanks," Sam smiled, even as his heart raced. He was just waiting for Dean to -

"So, you guys know each other?" Dean raised his eyebrows in question. _Here we go…._

"Sure thing, Gigantor over here just can't stay away from my baking," Gabriel winked again. "He's my favorite taste-tester."

Dean continued to stare at Gabriel incredulously, eyebrows raising impossibly higher. "Taste tester?"

"Sure thing. Why, jealous? You want some sugar too?" Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows salaciously. Sam stifled a groan.

Dean scoffed. "Dude, we don't swing that way."

"Dean," Sam warned.

Gabriel shrugged. "Your loss, big boy."

Sam swallowed a giggle at Dean's affronted look. "Do you always let him harass you like this?" He asked Sam. "Like, I know you're going through a dry spell right now, but seriously?"

Sam could sense Gabriel stiffen beside him.

"Dean, shut up." Sam knew he sounded like a petulant child, but he couldn't believe how tactless his brother was being.

"What? I'm your big brother, it's my job to look out for you. And if that means dragging you out of your apartment and - ahem - _introducing_ you to some lovely ladies at the bar, then that's what I'll do."

Sam could see Gabriel slowly retreating, but still likely within earshot.

"I don't _want_ to hook up with some girl, Dean!" He all but growled.

"Oh, but pudgy, horny baristas are ok?"

"Dean, _stop._ " Sam barely raised his voice, but he hoped there was power behind it, even as he felt the blush creeping up his cheeks and his hands start to sweat. Damn psychosomatic reactions.

He knew Dean noticed. His mouth gaped open slightly. "Oh, no, Sammy… really?"

Sam wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Just because you broke up with Jess doesn't mean you need to go gay! I mean, I know this is a liberal area and all - "

Sam stared his brother down. "I think you should take a walk, Dean," he said coldly.

Dean raised his hands in a surrendering gesture. "Sorry, Sammy." He had the decency to look somewhat apologetic. And without another word he rose and walked out the door.

Sam slumped down in his chair, tension leaving his body. He wanted to bury his head in his hands, but he couldn't look distraught in front of Gabriel's customers. Gabriel, who was now nowhere to be seen. Sam waited a few minutes to make sure he didn't run into Dean, then left, his emotions roiling in his gut, the foremost one being guilt at not being able to apologize to Gabriel.


	11. Misunderstandings Missed Opportunities

Gabriel 

When Gabriel saw Sam enter the coffee shop, his spirits instantly lifted. He was just finishing lunch rush, and he was exhausted, but Sam's smile brightened his day considerably.

It was only when Sam went to go sit down instead of waiting in line that he realized that there was someone with Sam. A devastatingly handsome someone. Probably one of the underwear models that were in Sam's league. Jealousy reared its head, but Gabriel swallowed it down. He had no claim on Sam. Sam could bring a date out for coffee if he wanted to. Though, perhaps bringing said date to _Gabriel's_ coffee shop was a little heartless _. Talk about cruel and unusual punishment. Though how would he know, Gabriel? You're just friends. You haven't even asked him on a date._ Gabriel glanced back at Sam. Why did Sam look so miserable? He looked like he wanted to disappear, hunched up over the table. Maybe the date wasn't going well. Gabriel glared back at Underwear Model. He had several inches of height (and likely a lot more muscle mass under the flannel which strangely matched Sam's typical aesthetic) on Gabriel, but that wouldn't stop Gabriel from beating him up in the alley out back. Or, spitting in his coffee, if he was being more realistic.

When the man ordered, however, he was polite and friendly. He seemed completely at ease, and utterly unaware of Sam's discomfort. Gabriel tried to discern if he was actually nice, or if his charisma just concealed the fact that he was an asshole who wasn't taking Sam on a proper date where he enjoyed himself instead of practically hiding under the table.

Gabriel made Dean's order and hurried through the rest of the line. He was going to go over to Sam and Underwear Model's table and rescue Sam if necessary. Not that he knew what he would say or do if he did figure out if this was in fact a date gone sour, but he'd figure something out. Sammy was obviously too nice to ditch the guy on his own. So Gabriel grabbed a scone and walked over to the table, attempting to exude confidence.

Sam appeared to have found something very interesting to look at outside the window, and Underwear Model was sipping his coffee nonchalantly - though he thought he heard him whisper something to Sam as he was approaching. Sam began doodling in the condensation on the window.

"Oi! You leave any fingerprints on that, you're cleaning it, Samsquatch!" Gabriel joked. Poor Sam was so twitchy he nearly fell out of his chair at Gabriel's voice.

Gabriel offered Sam the scone, invented a random innuendo on the fly, and was hoping to get more details on who Sam's date was, when Underwear Model said,

"Dude, we don't swing that way."

 _What?_

So, unless both Sam and Underwear Model were _very_ far in the closet, this wasn't a date. Oopsies. Gabriel took a good look at both of them. If they were friends, Gabriel would expect Sam to look a bit happier. They were too casually dressed for this to be a job interview. Both wearing flannel. Both handsome in a similar rugged way. Related, perhaps?

Gabriel made a flirty quip almost unconsciously, and Underwear Model - Dean, Sam had called him - implied that he was harassing Sam. Gabriel's stomach dropped. What if he _had_ been making Sam uncomfortable, and Sam was just too nice to tell him to shove off?

"I'm your big brother, it's my job to look out for you…"

 _Ah._ Elder brother. Evidently one with whom Sam did not have a good relationship, judging by the stress rolling off of him.

He listened absentmindedly as Dean was saying that he was going to get Sam laid. He thought that was probably his cue to leave, but then Sam said,

"I don't _want_ to hook up with some girl, Dean!"

 _Well, that's interesting._ Normally young, heterosexual men wouldn't refuse sex. So Gabriel thought, at least - he wasn't speaking from experience, exactly.

"Oh, but pudgy, horny baristas are ok?" Gabriel winced at Dean's voice even as he walked back behind the counter. It was true, after all. He couldn't hear the rest of the conversation, except for snippets.

" - doesn't mean you need to go gay!" Dean's voice was rising in volume. Gabriel peeked back at the brothers. Sam looked furious. If he were in Dean's place, he'd probably be beating a quick retreat, but Dean seemed unperturbed.

"I think you should take a walk, Dean," Sam's voice was low and insistent. Gabriel knew he should find an angry six-foot-four man intimidating, but dang, the way Sam took control of the situation and how the timbre of his voice became more gravelly was sexy.

Dean threw up his hands in a placating gesture, then actually left. Gabriel watched long enough to see Sam slouch in his seat, looking exhausted and defeated, then backed away into the kitchen, out of sight. His cashier could handle it if anyone came in.

He felt like a coward, but he didn't know how to comfort Sam. What would he say? " _Sorry your brother just outed you in public?" If that's even what that was. Or, "are you even gay?" Or, "I think I'm in love with you?"_

Gabriel froze at his last thought. Was he in love? He was certainly acting like it - cleaning his café specifically for when Sam came in, baking Sam's favorite desserts the night before, reading parenting blogs so that he knew how to talk to Mary and so he could feign understanding when Sam told him about the ways she had been testing his patience and her different developmental stages while he sipped his coffee, looking like a god.

 _Dang it, Gabriel._

Gabriel decided to reflect more on his feelings another time. Right now, he had to help Sam. But how? Gabriel remembered when he first officially came out, he had felt a bit adrift - in part he had defined himself through the way others viewed him, but if they viewed him differently… It was confusing to say the least, and it was difficult at times to cling to the truth of his identity. He could have used someone to ground him back then, and he could help Sam now. Gabriel was a tactile person, so he liked physical contact to relax, but he didn't think Sam would appreciate a gay barista all over him just after he had _some_ sort of conflict with his moronic brother about his sexuality. If he would ever appreciate said gay barista being all over him at any time. Dean was right, after all. Sam could do much better - and not just in the sense of choosing female partners. Sam was going to be a _lawyer_ , and Gabriel ran a dinky coffee shop that was still in the red. And Sam was an Adonis. Gabriel was, well. Pudgy and horny.

Gabriel took a deep breath and tried to think positively before trying to cheer Sam up. Pudgy was not a permanent condition - he was on a diet. And he was funny (sometimes), and caring (probably too much, as he was prone to manipulation), and Max liked him, at the very least. _And_ , at least _Dean_ thought that Sam was not exclusively attracted to women (though Sam had been pretty quiet on the matter), so _maybe_ Gabriel would have the smallest of chances with Sam.

Feeling not much more confident but more resolved to talk to Sam - what the hell he would say, he still had no clue - Gabriel exited the kitchen and was going to stride toward the table in the corner, only to find it unoccupied.

Sam was gone.


	12. Quarter-Life Crisis

Dean

Dean didn't mean to sound like a homophobic asshole. He really didn't. He didn't _think_ he was a homophobic asshole. He had just been taken by surprise. First the decidedly average-looking barista was clearly fawning over Sam, and then tried to flirt with _him_! And instead of brushing off the man's advances in the polite but disinterested way that he usually used with women he wasn't interested in, Sam had looked content. _Smug_ , even. Sure, he tried to hide it, but Dean had raised Sammy. He knew his tells.

So, what the hell? Why hadn't Sam talked to him about this? Like, were he and the pint-sized barista an item? It was one thing to have a crush on a fictional character like Dr. Sexy, it was another to be acting on those… feelings in reality and not say anything.

And _why_? Jess had been beautiful and kind and smart. Dean did not fault Sam in the slightest for breaking it off with her - sometimes two good people just simply aren't meant to be together - but then instead of rebounding with some chick that he likes enough to bang but not enough to get attached to, like a normal person, Sam becomes besotted with some random guy at the local café? Not that he checked his brother out in any sort of creepy incestuous way, but he had eyes. Sam was good-looking, and for all the teasing Dean gave him about being a nerd, he was proud of how intelligent and diligent Sam was. So what was it about Random Barista that did it for him, when he could have his pick of any of the beautiful women on Stanford campus?

And what was Sam's deal anyway? Like, was he gay, or bi, or pan, or _what_? How do you even talk to your kid brother about something like that?

So, yes, he had sounded crude, and his delivery could have been better, and he could have chosen a better time and place to have a welcoming and chic-flick discussion of Sam's feelings and all that crap. But instead he had made Sam angry, when he was supposed to be spending a nice, relaxing vacation with him. Just great.

So after grabbing a burger, Dean went to his hotel room and tried not to think too much about whether or not his brother had had gay sex with the blond midget at the café. Like, how would that even work, with the height difference? Dean quickly derailed that train of thought. _Girls. Boobs. Beer. Pie._

Sam

Of course, he had gone and told Dean to leave, forgetting that Dean had driven him here. After walking around for a bit, Sam hailed a taxi to get back to his apartment.

He couldn't believe Dean. He loved Dean, but his mouth ran away from him far too often to be easily forgiven. And poor Gabriel had heard all the _stupid_ things Dean had said. Gabriel, who Sam assumed was at the very least not straight, based on the amount of innuendos he made toward men.

 _We're probably going to be banned from Expressoself! Or sued._

Sam chuckled humorlessly at the thought of being sued before he even had his law degree.

He probably should have stayed to apologize to Gabriel on Dean's behalf, but the café had started to feel claustrophobic. He needed to take his sexuality crisis outside.

If this was, indeed, what he was having. A sexuality crisis.

He couldn't deny that while he thought of Gabriel as a friend, he also had started having… interesting physical reactions to Gabriel's presence. Nothing sexual, but… his stomach twisted in knots before he came to see Gabriel on Thursdays, though the tension dissipated once he saw Gabriel's smile. And Gabriel's smile gave him a warm feeling that felt difficult to contain. He even had found himself leaning increasingly farther over the counter while he and Gabriel talked, remaining just on the edge of Gabriel's personal space bubble.

 _What is happening to me?_

Though, the feeling itself was not entirely unfamiliar. It had been similar to how he had felt with Jess. He had never considered a relationship with her - or physical attraction, for that matter - until it shocked him with its existence and realness and he was left stunned and somewhat aroused.

He wasn't sure he was ready for that with Gabriel - despite what his heart and his body seemed to be saying. He had to maintain a modicum of logic. He spent most of his time studying and working at the library, he had virtually no social life, and he didn't party. Surely Gabriel, who was charming and extroverted, would find him exceedingly boring. Secondly, he didn't know where he would be going for graduate school, should he be accepted anywhere - he might be moving. Though that also involved coordinating with Jess, as they needed to live within reasonable distance to split parenting time, but that was something to worry about another day. Returning to the problem at hand: he didn't even know if Gabriel was interested in him to begin with. In addition, he came out of a serious relationship relatively recently. Was it time to date again? Finally, he had a kid. He expected anyone he was with to treat her as her own. Or _his_ own. Though really, Gabriel already did. He welcomed Mary as much as he did Sam, he didn't freak out when she got fingerprints on his display cases, he baked specifically for her, he read her the books he had bought for her when Sam brought her by and business was slow. And he had asked nothing of Sam in return.

Normally thinking rationally helped calm Sam down. Right now he just felt disappointed, like he was being denied something he longed for. Or rather, like he was doing the denying himself.

Sam hated to admit it, but he suspected one of the factors of his self-denial was the fact that Gabriel was a man. If he was being honest with himself, he wouldn't identify as strictly heterosexual, but he had never actually felt attraction to a man, so he just kind of…. Ignored it. Sam had nothing against same-sex relationships in general, but for him personally, this was unfamiliar territory. And unfamiliar meant frightening. What was the etiquette? Who asked out whom? Who paid for dinner? How would it feel to kiss a man? How do two men have sex?

Thinking was making things worse, not better. Sam felt nauseous.

Sam was on his second cup of coffee while Mary ate a crepe with peanut butter. Even Jess had noticed how exhausted he looked when he had picked up Mary and had asked somewhat suspiciously if he had had a late night. Sam had merely said he didn't sleep well. He didn't add that his lack of sleep was due to him spending most of the night mulling over if it was possible for a twenty-two year old to be unsure of their sexual orientation.

His phone buzzed on the table. He looked at it blearily.

Dean: _Hi Sammy. I wanted to say I'm sorry about yesterday._

Dean: _I still want to see u and Mary. Can I come over?_

Sam sighed. He knew he'd have to deal with Dean at some point. He was just… so… tired. But he replied to the text anyway.

Sam: _You can head over._

He and Mary were still in PJ's and he knew that if Dean hadn't been trying to get back on his good side, he'd probably make some jab about the state of his hair, but he couldn't bring himself to care enough to make himself look more presentable.

Soon Dean is at his door, holding a tray with strudel and more coffees. He looks sheepish - or at least as sheepish as Dean was capable of looking.

"Hey Sammy," Dean says as he thrusts the food toward Sam, like a peace offering. Sam hesitates for a moment, then accepts it. Normally he eats a healthy breakfast, but it's not like the sugary strudel could make him feel much worse. And the third cup of coffee couldn't hurt.

Dean shuffled his feet, just within the doorway. "Alright, let's get this over with," he muttered, "I'm sorry, Sammy."

Sam looked at him, face expressionless. He knew if he accepted Dean's apology now, Dean would never say anything more on the topic ever again.

Dean sighed and sat down at the table across from Sam. "You guys just took me by surprise, ok? It's your life, you can… you know." Dean shifted in his seat. "I mean, I want you to be happy." Dean paused, thinking. "How long have you two been together?"

Sam raised his eyes from his cup of coffee to look at Dean. "We're not."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Could've fooled me."

"Seriously Dean, we're just friends."

Mary decided this was a good moment to screech for attention.

"Hiya pumpkin pie," Dean smiled at her, "Want some strudel?"

"Dean," Sammy complained.

"What?" Dean retorted, "Heaven knows she never gets any real American breakfast around you!"

"I think strudels are Austrian," Sam says absentmindedly.

Evidently Dean wanted to change the topic to avoid a lecture on the history of pastries, as he asked, "So… are you…. _not_ straight?"

Sam tensed. "I don't know," he replied tersely.

Dean looked at him blankly. "What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I _mean_ , I _don't know_ ," Sam insisted.

Dean looked confused. Sam could tell he was trying to choose his words carefully this time, to avoid another fight. "It's ok, you know. If you're not. Straight, that is."

Sam sighed. "I _know_ , Dean. It's not like I think there's something _wrong_ with me. This is just… new to me."

Dean still looked befuddled. "So, you really are turning gay?"

Sam would have rolled his eyes had it not been for his exhaustion headache. "I'm not turning gay, Dean." Sam realized he was going to have to do more explaining. "I don't feel attracted to people at all, generally. It's not like I'm suddenly drooling over men."

"But…" Dean looked at Mary, who was now sticky with strudel. "You obviously had something going on with Jess."

"I did," Sam smiled a bit, reminiscently, "I fell in love with her first, and then the physical attraction came. I had never wanted to have sex before that. Or after."

"Dude. That sucks. No wonder you're wound so tight, you never hook up."

"Dean. Could you be more crude?"

"Not with this little lady in the room," Dean grinned and bounced Mary on his knee. His face soon morphed to a look of shock.

"You said - so - You're in love with the barista?"

Sam groaned. For someone who didn't do "chick-flick moments," his brother was certainly being persistent about talking about feelings. "I don't know." He wasn't even sure whether or not it was a lie. Sam continued,

"I mean, we've gotten fairly close over the past few months. Gabe's really smart. We talk about literature and stuff a lot. He's really good with Mary too. Didn't care that I have her. He set up this little table for her and got her coloring books and picture books and everything," Sam smiled. "And," he added, chuckling, "He gives us free food."

Dean's eyebrows raise. "Hm." He appeared to be considering something. Then - "You do know he's like, really short. And he looks like he probably steals from the display case."

"Don't care," Sam said immediately.

"Hm." Dean said again. "So… you're not dating, because…?"

"I don't know," Sam seemed to be saying that a lot lately. Dang, there was a lot he didn't know. "I just wanted to figure out how exactly I felt first, I guess." He then added, "I don't know if he wants to, like, date or whatever, anyway."

"Sam. You should have seen the way he was looking at you. It made me want to puke in my mouth."

Sam couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh.

Dean tickled Mary's sides. "Sammy, you look like crap. How about I take Mary for a bit and you take a nap? We'll go downtown or to the library or something."

Sam found himself nodding. He couldn't even bring himself to make a biting retort. "Thanks, Dean."


	13. Chapter 13

Gabriel

The last person Gabriel expected to see walking into _Expressoself_! was Dean. And Dean definitely had no right to look happy, confident, open, and goddamned attractive. What was it with these brothers' genes? Dean was carrying Mary on his hip as naturally as if she had been his own child, and his smile was blinding.

Dean might be a looker who embraced his role as an uncle, but that didn't make up for what he had done to Sam.

Gabriel glared at Dean in between taking orders. Dean's smile faltered a little bit, but he remained in line. Once he got to the front, Gabriel called out to Cas to take over the orders.

Now that Cas was on break from school, he was helping Gabriel a bit with the coffee shop. And, in a way, Gabriel was helping him - he was paying him, after all. Cassie (for as awkward as he was with customers) was an awesome baker. Some of his creations rivalled or surpassed Gabriel's own. Gabriel didn't trust any of his other employees to do the baking, so it was nice when Cas picked up a few hours so Gabriel could stop working lethal hours of overtime and start working only nearly-lethal hours of overtime.

Gabriel walked down to the other end of the counter where he and Sam normally sat. He hoped Castiel had the sense to hand people their orders closer to the cash register, instead of directing them down near Dean and Gabriel.

"You have a lot of nerve, coming back here." Gabriel stated matter-of-factly. He might have been talking about the weather, but he hoped an undertone of menace came across. He hated that he was forced to look up at Dean due to their difference in height.

"Not the first time I've heard that," Dean grinned, unperturbed. His features soon became more serious, however. "I wanted to apologize."

Gabriel stared at him, unimpressed.

Dean sighed and shifted Mary to his other hip. "Listen, Sam told me about how you've been taking care of him and Mary. And anyone who is watching out for my baby bro and niece when I'm not there is ok in my book."

Gabriel felt a glow of happiness knowing that Sam had said that Gabriel was _taking care of him._ However, he was not going to allow his anger to assuaged. "You don't have to apologize to _me_. You forced Sam to have a personal conversation in public, and he was obviously upset."

"I already apologized to him this morning. And I'm taking his little rugrat so he can get some sleep," Dean smiled at Mary before turning back to Gabriel and frowning. "I didn't mean to have that talk in public. It just…" Dean shrugged as best as he could while holding Mary, "Came up." Dean drew in a deep breath. "I guess I should have talked to him about that sort of shi- stuff - when I gave him his sex talk. Which was awkward enough as it is." Dean set his mouth in a grumpy line.

A chuckle escaped from Gabriel before he could stop it. "You gave Sam a sex talk?" While the opportunity presented itself, he might as well dig up some embarrassing secrets about Sam. Big brothers tend to have lots of stories about those.

"Not just _a_ sex talk, _the_ sex talk," Dean said grimly. "Like, what goes where and everything. No one else was going to."

"Religious parents?" The sex talk from Gabriel's own parents hadn't included a lot of details, except that The Act was for after marriage and with someone of the opposite gender only. Gabriel hadn't had a great relationship with his parents since he came out as gay. There was a stiff, forced phone call on rare occasion, but that was it. They were a little bit more open with Castiel - who was generally indifferent to sexual orientation and gender - since there was a chance that he could end up with a heterosexual woman and in their eyes, therefore, could still be redeemed from a life of sodomy.

Dean scoffed. "Nah. One dead, one drunk." He paused. "Though good ol' dad wasn't all that accepting of that sort of thing, but we didn't talk about it much." Gabriel assumed 'that sort of thing' was non-heteronormativity, but he didn't pry. Dean's eyes glazed for a moment as he appeared lost in thought, then he shook himself out of his reverie. "I really raised Sammy by myself. Tried to keep him away from all that and out of trouble." Dean practically puffed up with pride.

Gabriel bestowed him with a small smile. "Well, I think you did an ok job." Gabriel wanted to stay angry. He was supposed to be threatening Dean, not complimenting him, but if Dean was telling the truth, well - Sammy _had_ turned out ok. And it would explain why Dean held Mary so naturally.

Dean returned the smile. "Thanks."

Gabriel looked closer at Dean's face. Maybe a few more wrinkles than Sam, and definitely more tan, with an abundance of freckles. _I wonder if Sam would get freckles, if he would actually_ go outside _more instead of spending all his free time reading inside. Though admittedly, it gives him a lot of material for us to argue about_. Gabriel shook himself out of his thoughts and returned to the task at hand. Dean really didn't look that much older than Sam. Gabriel thought he remembered Sam telling him that Dean was his age, but he couldn't be. Twenty-six wasn't old enough to be in the role of having raised someone Sammy's age - or giving him awkward sex talks of any kind, certainly.

"How much older are you than Sam, anyway?" Gabriel asked.

"Four years. Why?"

Four years. Dean had just been a kid himself, trying to take care of his brother. Might explain why any deviation from heteronormativity hadn't come up in conversation between the two. Dean himself might not have even known the word _bisexual_ at the age at which he had given Sam the sex talk. Gabriel couldn't help feel newfound admiration for the guy, even if he was an asshole. Gabriel had helped with Castiel, but his parents were still in the picture for the most part during their childhood, and what little he had done to take care of Cassie had been exhausting as it was.

"Just wondering." Gabriel paused. "This doesn't mean you're forgiven."

Dean just laughed. "I'd think less of you if it did."

Evidently Dean then decided the conversation was over, as he abruptly asked, "What's a guy gotta do to get some pie around here?"

Dean

The line had thinned down somewhat. Gabriel called out to the man who had been taking orders and working the cash register. "Hey Cas, bring this gentleman a slice of your pie, will ya?" Gabriel turned to Dean. "You'll have to tell me if it is really as heavenly as Cassie claims. He says it's better than mine." Gabriel scoffed, but Dean could tell the teasing was affectionate.

"It is heavenly." Cas(sie?) appeared behind Gabriel. He locked eyes with Dean. "Apple or cherry?"

The guy's voice sounded gravelly and rough, but not in the scratchy or phlegmy way a smoker's does. It was just rich and deep. This dude seemed much too masculine to possibly go by "Cassie."

Dean realized he hadn't answered, and that he and Cas (he decided to go with Cas for the time being; he wasn't gonna call a guy Cassie - that was the name of his ex anyway) had been staring into each other's eyes, which wasn't weird and awkward _at all._ "I'll have the apple," Dean flashed a smile to hopefully cover up his snafu. Though, if Cas cared, or sensed any social faux pas, he didn't show it. He merely gave a brief nod and walked toward the back of the store.

"Cassie made a few pies this morning, but we haven't put them in the display case yet," Gabriel said, "He's an awesome help with baking, but his customer service could use some practice." Even the critique sounded fond.

 _Maybe Sam's crush isn't even available._ Gabriel seemed pretty chummy with Cas for them to just be coworkers. Dean decided he would try to investigate, and threaten if necessary.

"So, how long have you known each other?" Dean tried to probe subtly.

Gabriel looked at him, confused, then chuckled. "Since birth. Cas is my little bro."

Cas chose this moment to reappear, with a steaming slice of pie. "If you're wondering, Gabriel is desperately single," he deadpanned.

Dean gaped at Cas before recovering. "I wasn't…" he muttered.

"It's ok. Gabriel and I are often mistaken for a couple. I think it's because Gabriel shows love through physical affection, even though he pretends that I annoy him." Cas continued as if this were an entirely normal conversation.

"Cas!" Gabriel hissed. "Besides, you do annoy me," he added.

Dean was grateful for the slice of pie Cas had set in front of him upon his return, as he carved off a bite and filled his mouth as an excuse not to say anything. He couldn't help but hum in appreciation. The crust was golden and flaky, but not dry; the apples were not too firm or too mushy, had a hint of cinnamon, and were in the perfect filling-to-crust ratio; and there was even a dollop of whipped cream. Mary grabbed at the pie and Dean began to cut her off a piece. Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sam normally doesn't let her eat sugary stuff like that. Here, I have some biscuits. They're whole wheat, organic, cinnamon and banana flavored." Gabriel pulled a couple of the crackers from behind the counter and offered them to Mary.

"Uh uh," Mary shook her head emphatically and continued reaching for the pie.

"Looks like Cas's cooking is winning out over your tasteless hippie food, Gabe," Dean smirked. "That's right Mary, Uncle Dean is gonna let you have real dessert!" He finished slicing off her chunk of pie, which she promptly shoved in her mouth.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "I suppose you'll return her all hopped up on sugar, then."

"Nah," Dean smiled at his niece, "I'll make sure I wear her out first. Sammy needs some rest. Kid is wound too tight, if you ask me, and it's starting to show."

Gabriel snickers. "I might have to take him out for beers instead of coffee." Dean levelled a glare at Gabriel, who then paled slightly and began to stutter as he realized the potential implications of his words, "I mean - not that we - you know what I mean."

"Mm hm." Dean kept his face was expressionless. In his opinion, he was the only one allowed to poke fun at Sam here. He was about to begin questioning Gabriel about his intentions toward his little brother, when Cas spoke up again. His voice almost startled Dean. For someone who appeared around Dean's height and seemed pretty solidly built, Cas seemed to be able to move silently. He was still on the other side of the counter, but standing much closer. Even under the apron, Dean could tell Cas was thin, but certainly not delicate looking. He wasn't beefy, but he was definitely toned; the tanned skin on his forearms highlighted his muscle. His skin tone complimented his large blue eyes and shock of black hair, which it appeared Cas had run his hands through at some point, as one side was dusted with flour. He had a… rustic type of strength, one that came from being outside, not lifting weights at the gym.

Dean heard Gabriel's voice and abruptly realized that while he was staring at Cas, Cas was staring back at him. Their eyes locked, and Dean quickly dropped his gaze to his plate, where Mary was making quick work of his slice of pie with her fingers. He could still feel the weight of Cas's gaze on him. _Does this guy not realize it's creepy to stare at people?_ This was the second time, after all. Dean knew he was being hypocritical, but he shrugged away that thought. _I'm just tired. That's why I keep zoning out and staring at Cas. Though, why is he staring at me?_ Dean scrubbed at his mouth with a napkin, wondering if he had pie crumbs on his face. He then returned his focus to what Gabriel was saying.

"I'm sorry Cassie, but I already gave everyone else time off for the holidays. I know you want to go, but I really can't man the shop all by myself, buddy."

"It's only for a few days, Gabriel," If Cas's voice wasn't so deep, he would have sounded petulant.

"What's only for a few days?" Dean asked.

Cas turned toward him, making direct eye contact that felt like he was staring into his soul and reading his deepest secrets there. Dean gulped unconsciously and nearly regretted asking, when Cas replied,

"It's an entomology conference at Kansas State University. It's going to be focused on bees and their ecological importance and the effects of their dwindling population." Dean wasn't sure how Cas managed to look excited and mournful at the same time, like he was aware he had a morbid fascination with bee death while simultaneously grieving the loss.

"Why would you want to go to _that_?" Dean asks before he can censor himself.

Cas stared at him blankly. "I'm studying entomology ."

"That means bugs," Gabriel added helpfully.

"I know what it _means_ ," Dean sniped, "What I don't understand is why someone would want to sit through a conference with some musty old dudes talking about bugs."

Cas looked almost… disappointed? But also a bit disdainful, like Dean had just said something incredibly stupid. "Bugs are an incredibly important part of our ecosystem. Besides, they are very interesting to watch, living their little lives, working together to accomplish a goal…" Cas trailed off, eyes glazing slightly. Cas reminded Dean a bit of a bug himself, with the large eyes that focused a bit too much and the precise and purposeful way he moved - working toward a goal. Not to mention the lack of social graces. A bug masquerading as human and doing _just_ a good enough job to pass, most of the time.

 _Ooo-kay, getting a bit too metaphysical there, Winchester._

"Aaannnyway, Cassie, I'm sorry bro, but I really need you here," Gabriel pleaded. "And I'm not sure I have enough to loan you for the plane ticket anyway," He mumbled.

Dean felt like he was trespassing on private family matters, and was just contemplating making his escape since Mary had now finished off his pie and was now playing with a button on his shirt (he really hoped she didn't get it off and swallow it), when an idea struck him. He was supposed to be here apologizing after all; and never let it be said that Dean Winchester would every be in anyone's debt. And if it meant getting back in the good graces of Sam's crush, and therefore Sam, Dean would be self-sacrificing.

"Well," Dean cleared his throat, "I do live in Kansas. Cas could always hitch a ride with me, and then fly back out here. That'd be cheaper." Cas seemed like a pretty quiet guy. At the very least he would just crank some Zeppelin and Cas could look out the window during the drive. It couldn't be much worse than driving alone.

Gabriel, however, was quick to refute his offer. "That still leaves me with only me to work the shop. I might be stupid, but I'm not suicidal. That many hours for that long would be the death of me."

Dean grimaced briefly, then brightened as the solution revealed itself to him. There must have been something in that pie that got his brain juices flowing. "I think Sammy is looking for some more work over Winter break."

Gabriel looked dumbfounded yet hopeful.

"I mean, if you guys would be able to get any work done together," Dean jibed, "From what Sam says, he'd get some nerd boner from you talking literature at him."

Gabriel smiled evilly. "Well," he said casually, "If he does, I'll take care of it." He then produced a book from behind the counter.

Dean looked at the title and was close to puking what little he had eaten of the pie with the image it connoted. He was going to kill Gabriel.

 _The Kama Sutra._


End file.
